


The Second Time Around

by littlegreenfish



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, F/M, Suicide Attempt, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlegreenfish/pseuds/littlegreenfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Regina and Jefferson, it turns out that true love isn't born: it's made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Mad Queen Week 2014!

_Storybrooke, Maine; Pre-Season 1_

Grace wasn’t the only one Jefferson could see from the manor the curse had made for him. 

He could only watch her from afar, and sometimes it hurt too much to face the fact that the one person in the world he would give up anything for didn’t even know who he was. He’d almost considered approaching her once or twice, but quickly shelved the idea. His daughter not knowing him—maybe even fearing him—would surely end him. 

And that was what _she_ wanted. 

When all else failed, when he felt like the next day would surely be his last—that the curse, that the knowing, was driving him insane—he watched Regina. 

Unlike his daughter, he didn’t need to keep his distance with Regina, because she _knew_. He could see it in her eyes. He could hear it in the way that she laughed when she glanced at him and realized that he was staring. 

It only happened every now and then, and for good reason. Jefferson was often too distracted to bother seeking out the queen, for although Regina had been cruel enough to curse Jefferson with knowing exactly what had happened to the citizens of the Enchanted Forest, the curse had also left him with the memories of a stranger.

Jefferson Maddon: a pampered young socialite fresh out of law school who had been hidden away in Storybrooke by his parents while he recovered from a prescription drug addiction and dealt with crippling anxiety. At least the curse had enough decency to let his altar-ego share his first name. 

Regina herself was the worst part of being Jefferson Maddon, because Mr. Maddon knew Mayor Mills almost as well as the Mad Hatter knew the Evil Queen. They’d gone to high school together, and he’d always been hopelessly in love with her. Sometimes, in his worst moments, he forgot that those feelings weren’t real and it made him want to die.

He hadn’t loved Regina since they were both no more than spoiled, foolish children.

It was only on the days when Jefferson was able to successfully shut out Mr. Maddon (often with the help of the pills that his Storybrooke persona was supposed to be avoiding at all costs) that he was able to leave the house and seek out the woman who had dammed him not once, but twice.

Wonderland ruled his dreams. Maddon infected his waking world. Not having Grace tortured and twisted him in every minute, awake or not. There was only one constant variable in his life that didn’t fill him with anguish: _Regina_.

Instead, she filled him with rage.

She hadn’t always. Memories of the affair they’d had in their youth—of the young queen in his arms shrieking with laughter—occasionally made their way into his psyche, but they never lasted long. How could they, after what she’d done?

At first, he kept track of how long he’d been cursed with finery, addiction, and the absence of his daughter. One year. Two. It was one of the only things he could control. Eventually, he even let that slip.

By the time that he finally found enough (liquid—a bottle of aged scotch in his basement that had never been there before, surely) courage to confront Regina about the curse, it had been twelve years, but for all he knew it could have been two-hundred. 

Bottle in his hand and car parked half on the street and half on Regina’s lawn, he stood in the doorway swaying. 

“Regina!” He called out, the bottle slipping from his hand and landing with a clatter but not quite managing to break completely. “REGINA!” 

When the mayor didn’t come to greet him, he reached down and grabbed the bottle, stumbling forward until he was close enough to throw it at the door where it finally shattered.

He was too drunk and angry to notice that, in picking up a half-broken bottle, he’d made a bloody mess of his hand.

“REGINA!” He screamed again, refusing to back down. He’d put off confronting her for years, and he refused to wait for even another second. There was nothing holding him back, not when he was more drunk than he’d been since before Storybrooke.

Finally, after another few screams the mayor’s windows lit up. Jefferson quieted down and stared at the door, putting most of his attention into making sure that he stayed upright for the confrontation.

The doors opened and the queen burst forth, swearing up a storm and looking ready to kill him.

“Jefferson, you are unbelievable! Do you have any idea what time it is?” She demanded, still managing to look like a queen in a loose robe, tank-top and yoga pants. It was the most casual he’d ever seen her in the Land Without Magic.

“No!” He spat back, being completely honest.

“You!...” Regina paused, looking the other man up and down and taking in his drunken, bleeding state. “Inside! Now!” She hissed, stepping to the side and pointing.

“Good! We’re talking! Now!” Jefferson, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, made it through the door almost falling down once. As soon as he was inside, Regina was at his side with an arm around his waist, guiding him into the living room and then the couch.

As they moved through Regina’s house, Jefferson continued to speak. 

“How could you? To me? You already hurt me! This isn’t…I was…this isn’t fair! I’m talking to you!”

“Yes, yes you are.” Regina sighed, sounding like she had a headache as she sat Jefferson down on the couch. “Stay here.”

“Right. Because we’re talking.” Jefferson agreed, trying to put his feet up on the coffee table but instead almost falling. When Regina came back, it was with a first-aid kit in hand. 

“You’re an idiot.” She breathed out, taking his hand and roughly rubbing a disinfectant-soaked pad over his bloody hand. Initially he jerked away, but with a soft slap to his chest he settled down and let her work.

“It’s not fair.” He continued as she took care of him, not forgetting the real reason he was visiting her. “You already hurt me. You didn’t have to…didn’t have to do it again. You already did.” There were tears in his eyes that he couldn’t control, even as she shoved a tall glass of water into his good hand and he obediently drained it.

“It’s three in the morning, Jefferson. I don’t have time for this.” She muttered, coaxing him into a second glass of water and a handful of painkillers. “Come on.”

“Where are we going? Wonderland?” He asked, doubling over in uncontrollable laughter even though there was nothing funny about what he’d said.

Regina’s response was an exasperated sigh as she practically hauled him up the stairs.

“No, Jefferson. We’re going to bed.”

“I don’t think I can get hard right now.” Jefferson said matter-of-factly. He couldn’t even move his feet.

“Not the _same_ bed.” Regina rolled her eyes and the next thing Jefferson knew, he was being unceremoniously rolled into what was apparently the mayor’s guest bedroom. Jefferson, though he still wasn’t thinking clearly, almost thought that Regina was being kind as she pulled the blankets over him and put more water on the bedside table. 

“Goodnight, Jefferson.” She whispered, slipping out of the room and leaving him to sleep off everything he’d intended and failed to say. 

As Jefferson began to fall asleep, he let out a laugh. 

Regina being kind? To him? That was almost as funny as Wonderland.

 

xxx

 

Regina was glad that she’d never become a mother, because taking care of a drunken Jefferson was the most that she ever wanted to do for another person. It was exhausting, and really she should have just let him drop dead on her front porch.

But what would the neighbors think.

It was well after noon by the time that the hatter stumbled down her stairs looking dazed and confused. She’d never seen him so drunk, and they’d known one another a long time. He was one of the few people who had _really_ known her before she became the _Evil_ queen.

And how had he repaid the trust that a younger, more foolish woman had given him?

He’d betrayed her. Abandoned her. It could not be forgiven. 

She made him breakfast anyway. Perhaps she owed him that much for his eternal suffering.

“I don’t normally make eggs and bacon at two in the afternoon, but just this once I’ll make an exception.”

“It’s the afternoon?” Jefferson muttered, sitting down at the island in the middle of the kitchen and running his fingers through messy hair. Regina hadn’t seen him looking so undone in years. He usually cared so much about his appearance. “What happened to my hand?...” 

“You threw a broken bottle at my door.” Regina explained, setting down a full plate in front of her ex-lover and sitting across from him with a raised eyebrow. “You made a _scene_ , Jefferson.”

“Oh.” Looking down at his plate, the hatter took a few small bites of the eggs Regina had made for him. “Is this poisoned?”

“No. I don’t have time to get rid of a body—being a mayor is busy work.”

“A pity. That would save me a lot of grief.” He laughed, and Regina frowned.

“You aren’t supposed to be saved. You’re supposed to suffer. _All_ of you.” It had been easy, for five or ten minutes, to forget how much Jefferson had hurt her. How much he deserved the curse.

“Don’t you worry about that, Regina. I’m suffering.” Jefferson pushed his plate away and stood, most of his late breakfast uneaten. His hands gripping the counter, he paused and looked her. “…but so are you, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Regina said briskly, picking up Jefferson’s plate and scraping it off. She hated mess. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” 

“Then why aren’t you smiling? You look just as unhappy as you did in the Enchanted Forest.”

“What would you know about how I feel, Jefferson? The last time I checked, it wasn’t something you cared about.” Not anymore.

“Because, Regina—I’m watching you."

She let the words sink in for a moment as she washed off his plate. By the time that she had a retort, he was gone. Even without his hat, the madman was good at making a hasty exit. 

As Regina turned on the dishwasher, she took a deep breath and, against her better judgment, thought about the past.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past.

_The Enchanted Forest; Post “The Doctor”_

It was the first time he’d been near the queen since picking up his royal passport. At first, he hadn’t intended to go beyond the walls of her castle. Then, more suddenly than winter to spring, that changed when he received the most mundane (and interesting) of things: an invitation.

Rumplestiltskin had been responsible for it, which made sense. The imp had an uncanny knack for saying exactly what someone wanted to hear. Well, maybe it wasn’t uncanny. He was a hard man to figure out

Jefferson had just returned from a lengthy trip to an exhausting world presided over by more talking animals than Wonderland, in search for a ring that could move between the worlds. He hadn’t found it, but had brought back a handful of trinkets to satisfy the Dark One.

“Thank you. This should be enough to keep me busy for awhile.” He chuckled, side-eyeing the man next to him. “Although perhaps that’s a problem. You see, I’ve been invited to a party.”

“Have you now?” Jefferson asked, cocking an eyebrow and leaning back in one of the couches that littered the monster’s lair.

“You sound surprised. I’m quite popular, among the right people.” The imp huffed, plucking a folded piece of parchment from inside his coat. “The Queen invited me. Though, I will admit, I doubt she assumed I would come—I seem to make the common folk _uncomfortable_. Can you imagine?”

“Not in the slightest.” Jefferson yawned, and thought about taking a long nap. Narnia had been exhausting. “I find you downright charming.”

“Thank you.” Taking a few steps toward the portal jumper, the imp held out the invitation. “I think that you should take it.” 

“Excuse me?” Jefferson opened his eyes and made eye contact with the other man. “You’re not expecting me to take that instead of of gold, are you?” 

“Of course not.” Rumplestiltskin waved a hand dismissively. “But…I do have a job for you to do.”

“Ah.” Now it all made sense. Sitting up a little, Jefferson made eye contact with Rumplestiltskin and grinned. “What is it?” 

“It’s about Regina.”

“Oh?” Jefferson perked up. _The Queen_. “What do you need me to do?” He smirked a little. “Seduce her?”

“No, no, no.” Rumplestiltskin waved his hand with more enthusiasm. “Not _that_ —though,” He looked lost in his own mind for a few moments while he thought. “I don’t suppose I can stop that.” He turned his attention back to Jefferson. “I seem to have _offended_ her. This was after she invited me to the ball, obviously. Something trivial—she’s so fickle.” The imp sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I need you to get me back into her good graces.”

“Convince her to trust the most untrustworthy man in the land? No problem.”

“You wound me, Jefferson. Haven’t I treated you well?”

“Of course you have—but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

They both laughed, and Jefferson stood.

“It would be my pleasure.” He tipped his hat, and took the invitation from Rumplestiltskin. “When is the ball?”

“Tonight.” A sudden frown found its way onto the imp’s face. “But…you’re not planning on wearing _that_ are you?”

“What’s wrong with this? “Jefferson asked, scowling slightly. He liked his clothes. 

“ _Nothing_ for a man who travels and sees much. But for a royal ball? Oh, no, dearie. This will not do.” A wave of the imp’s hand, and Jefferson’s mismatched clothes had been replaced with fitted finery. Save for his hat, of course.

“At least you picked a good color.” Jefferson huffed, looking down at what he was wearing. Some sort of purple—dark, very expensive-looking. “And when will I get my things back?”

“Normally I’d say midnight, but that never seems to go according to plan.” Rumpelstilskin tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Come back tomorrow morning to give your report, and we’ll sort everything out.” He glanced out the window. “You’d better get going. It’s nearly sunset.”

“As you wish.” Jefferson laughed, still admiring his new clothes. They wouldn’t do forever—not his style, too prissy—but it was a nice change of pace. He wondered what Regina would think…and what she’d look like out of her riding clothes and in a ballgown.

He doubted it would suit her—but he was certain she’d look beautiful all the same. If nothing else, King Leopold had good taste in women.

“Go on, then. You’re dismissed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rumplestiltskin stood and walked towards his spinning wheel without looking at the other man. “You know, that’s her favorite color.”

Jefferson laughed and tossed his hat.

 

xxx

 

Another day, another ball. Another opportunity to let Leopold parade her around, greeting people she couldn’t bring herself to really remember or care about no matter how many parties they attended.

They were all the same. All they cared about was status and money, which had very little to do with her own interests: magic and power. The only ambition in the ballroom was to get into the king’s good graces, and that was something that had never mattered to Regina. 

At least she’d already shared a dance with her husband. Any man would be better than him. The dancing was repetitive and slow, and gave her time to think as she smiled and nodded at whatever her partner was saying. 

The man in front of her at the time was the duke of somewhere entirely unimportant, and she found herself growing unusually bored as they danced. He spoke through his nose, and she couldn’t even think of other things.

When it came time to change partners, she wanted to roll her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Instead, she smiled politely, thanked him for his time, and spun around to see who she would dance with next. 

He put a hand on her waist, and her eyes widened. 

It was the realm jumper. He looked just the same as the first time they’d met, young and careless—though he was wearing nicer clothes. She hadn’t seen him since D—no. She didn’t need to think about him. 

“What are you doing here?” She breathed out as they started to move.

“I received an invitation.” He explained, a smile on his lips. 

“I don’t remember inviting you to the ball.” She frowned, uncomfortable with the idea of a criminal (he was one, wasn’t he? A thief?) sneaking into the palace. 

“Well, it wasn’t _my_ invitation.” He admitted. “But I was invited.”

“By whom?” She asked, though she already had her suspicions.

“You know who.” He leaned in, and whispered in her ear. “Rumplestiltskin.”

Regina tensed.

“And what has he sent you to do?” She hissed under her breath, not letting her anger reach her face. “Spy on me?”

“Who knows what that man wants.” Jefferson rolled his eyes and shrugged. “He said that you two had quarreled, and sent me to fix it. He said that he wanted me to get him back into your good graces, but what he asks for isn’t always what he really wants.” 

“Well, if that’s why you’re here, then you can leave.” Regina’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “If he wants to, he can speak to me himself—though I’d rather he not.” 

“But that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Oh? What else brings you here?” She asked, pursing her lips as they continued to move across the ballroom floor in tandem with the rest of the dancers. 

He smiled, and she found the warmth in his eyes disconcerting. 

“I wanted to see you.” 

The ball had ended by midnight, and when Regina returned to her chambers, Jefferson was there. 

“You know this isn’t proper.” She sat down at her vanity and looked to the window seat where he’d made himself comfortable. “It just happens to be the only place we can speak without being watched.” 

Learning magic had its benefits. Leopold and his servants couldn’t have listened in even if they’d tried.

“I know that well enough.” Jefferson paused, and she knew that he was likely thinking back to their dance. She’d told him to come here before they changed partners. It was less suspicious than the queen leaving the ball at the same time as a handsome stranger. “…but you’re the one who invited me here. Why?”

“I’m the one who should be asking you questions.” She pulled a few pins out of her hair, and it fell down her back. “Why did you want to see me?”

“An easy question.” Jefferson laughed and leaned back in the window seat. “You’re beautiful.” 

Regina took a deep breath to keep her temper down. 

“So you’re here to seduce the queen?” She asked dryly. “Very original, Jefferson. You’re quite creative.”

“No.” Jefferson corrected her. “I’m not here to sleep with you.” He met her gaze, his brow slightly furrowed. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Regina laughed out loud, and abruptly looked away from him.

“And what does that have to do with my beauty, thief?” 

“Pretty girls are very good at hiding how they feel.”

“And what does it matter to you? Even if it does matter—why should I care about your opinion?”

“Because I am a man who travels far and sees much—skills that Rumplestiltskin pays well for.”

“So you want to offer your services? That still has nothing to do with my beauty _or_ state of mind.” 

“I disagree.” Jefferson tut-tutted. “If you’re unhappy, I’m the man you want. I’m the one who can give you what you need.” 

“And what do I need, Jefferson?” Regina asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What can you bring me?”

“Whatever you want.” He said honestly. “I’m at your service, _Your Majesty_.”

“Just as the imp wishes, I’m sure.”

“No. As I said, all that he wants me to do is convince you to forgive him for whatever stupid thing he’s done. I would listen, if I were you, but you don’t need to follow my advice. Rumplestiltskin is crazy—and evil, of course—but it’s much better to be in his good graces than his bad.” 

“And why should I trust you?” Regina asked. 

“Oh!” Jefferson laughed, and despite herself, something fluttered in her chest and she cursed herself for letting such a charming man anywhere near her. She didn’t have time for this. She wasn’t stupid enough for this. “I never said you should trust me.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Storybrooke, Maine; Pre-Season 1_

 

Letting him sleep her in her house had been stupid. Making him breakfast the next morning had been downright _idiotic_. In a moment of weakness, she’d let old memories get in the way of what _really_ mattered. Her revenge.

Hurting Jefferson wasn’t worth anything if she was there to tuck him in at the end of the day. 

But when he’d shown up at her door in the middle of the night screaming her name, he’d almost (for a few brief seconds) looked like a reckless, handsome young portal jumper who she’d foolishly believed to be worth loving. That had been a long time ago—back when she’d been quite rash herself. 

There were a lot of memories to not think about. Sometimes, when she caught him staring at her from across the bar or the grocery store, she couldn’t keep them all down. Their first dance—he’d shown up out of the blue, and she’d invited him to her chambers.

Not for romance—just to tell him that there was nothing he could do for her.

He hadn’t kissed her then, but she hadn’t told him that he couldn’t come back. In hindsight, it should have been obvious what was going to happen. Maybe she’d even known it at the time. Not that she’d end up sleeping with him—that didn’t matter. 

Sleeping with him hadn’t been a mistake. 

Falling in love with him was what she’d done wrong, and she’d paid dearly for it.

Things were different now. They were both well out of love—they had been for years. Leaving someone in Wonderland was a good way to go cold turkey on a relationship.

Sometimes she thought that maybe she should have left him there, with her mother, to rot. That things would be better if he never got caught up in the curse. Then, the first time she’d seen how much he was suffering in Storybrooke, any doubts about Jefferson’s ultimate fate had vanished.

In Wonderland, he’d been too lost in madness to _truly_ feel the pain that he deserved. Here, he could feel pain—and she could watch him hurt.

Letting him into her house had been a one-time mistake. Regina supposed that it _had_ been late. If she’d left him there to tire himself out, he might have caused a scene. That was the last thing that she needed. 

The next time that she saw him was two weeks later at the grocery store. He looked well-kept, but tired. Although Jefferson had always been incredibly vain, the importance of appearance in the Land Without Magic had brought his routine to a whole new level.

She wasn’t sure which of them spent more time on their hair.

“Madam Mayor.” He said dryly when she joined him in the checkout line. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

“And the same to you, Jefferson.” She said tenderly, warmth spreading through her chest when she saw out utterly _exhausted_ he looked. Had he even slept since their last encounter? “I hope that you’ve been well.”

“Wonderful.” He laughed, and set down a bottle of whiskey on the conveyer belt with just a little too much conviction. It was followed by a few more mundane items—pasta, broccoli, a prescription from the pharmacy in the back of the store. At least he was eating.

She didn’t want him to die. Not when there was still time for him to hurt more. 

The girl beyond the counter smiled at both of them. In the Enchanted Forest she’d been a servant in King Leopold’s castle—someone sent to spy on Regina to make sure that the young queen was behaving. 

In Storybrooke, in the past that had never been, she’d gone to high school with Regina and Jefferson. It was easy to keep the memories of her Storybrooke persona at bay. She was self-aware. She knew that they weren’t real. 

Despite that, it was disconcerting to know that both she and Jefferson remembered a past that had never been. Remembered awkwardly fumbling in the backseat of Jefferson’s car at age sixteen. Regina deciding that they should just be friends. Jefferson’s face when she told him. 

The fake story that the curse had weaved for them was much more innocent than the truth. Much safer than Jefferson fucking her in Leopold’s bed while the king and his precious snowflake were away for the weekend, leaving Regina behind and all-alone in the castle. 

As they left the grocery store together, Regina enjoyed the way that Jefferson tensed whenever she looked at him. Between them there were only two bags of groceries, and the hatter took the queen’s without being asked. 

They paused at the mayor’s car, and he set down her bag in the trunk of her care without a word. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you around, Jefferson.” She said as he turned to leave. 

“No.” Jefferson’s grip on his groceries tightened. He met her gaze for a moment, and his indifference toward her slipped for just long enough for her to see a madman behind his carefully styled hair and designer jacket. “You won’t.” 

She watched him go and rolled her eyes. Even if they tried to avoid one another, Storybrooke was a small town. It was inevitable that they’d see one another, even if it was just in passing. 

It wasn’t until she’d settled into a nice, hot bath at the end of the day that she realized what Jefferson had really meant when they’d parted ways that afternoon. 

As she tore out of her driveway five minutes later in a t-shirt and sweatpants with her hair still soaking wet, she went over the curb and knocked down her neighbor’s recycling cans.

 

xxx

 

The first thing that Jefferson _remembered_ when he woke up in the hospital was someone with a familiar voice screaming at him while Beethoven’s Fifth played in the background.

It could have almost been Regina, but it _couldn’t_ have been Regina. 

The first thing that Jefferson _noticed_ when he woke up in the hospital was that he was alive. 

 **He was alive.**  

It took a few moments for his body to catch up with his mind. His limbs felt too heavy, and even though he knew that what was happening was _wrong_ , his thoughts were too fuzzy to focus. 

When he tried to tip the IV out of his arm so that he could go back home and finish what he’d started, he realized that he was restrained. The only thing he could do was laugh. 

No, he couldn’t even do that—his throat was too raw. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. His head felt like it was full of sand. At least now Victor knew how mad he really was. The doctor had never seen him in Wonderland. He had no idea what the portal jumper had become. 

No, not Victor. Dr. Whale. 

Victor had been his friend. Dr. Whale was a stranger. Oh—and he was here. 

“Mr. Maddon.” The good doctor was standing over him. 

“Doctor.” Jefferson whispered, his voice raw and raspy as he met the other man’s gaze. The lights were too bright, but he didn’t have the energy to complain.

“You tried to kill yourself.” At least Whale wasn’t beating around the bush. 

“I did.” 

Whale scribbled something down on his clipboard. Jefferson didn’t care. 

“You have a visitor.” 

“Hopper?”

“No.” 

“Well, you might as well let in whoever it is.” Jefferson sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. 

“You’re sure you’re not too tired?” 

Jefferson tried to laugh again, but ended up coughing.

“Oh, Doctor—I’m always tired.” He swallowed hard. “Send them in.” 

“Very well.” He heard Whale open the door, and murmur something to whoever was at the door. If not Hopper, then it was probably another specialist. A counselor. Someone to tell him that he had _so_ much to live for. 

“Jefferson.”

He went from relaxed to tense in less than a second, his eyes widening as he turned his head to look at Regina, who was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed. She looked terrible. No make-up, sweatpants—damp hair. 

So it _had_ been the queen who’d saved him. How had she known? He thought back, and let out a deep breath. Of course. After the grocery store. He shouldn’t have said anything.

He didn’t have anything to say, so he just grunted to show that he’d heard, closed his eyes, and lay his head back.

“I hope that you’re pleased with yourself.” She continued, her voice just a little too high for her disdain to be completely sincere. “Now instead of spending your time in the wonderful home I made for you, you’re going to be strapped down and sedated for the next few days.”

He didn’t reply right away, his memories and identities swimming around in his head—bouncing around and not making any sense. He wasn’t sure what was real. 

“That’s great.” He finally said, keeping his eyes closed. “Mr. Maddon’s an addict, you know.”

“Of course I know.” Regina let out a short laugh. “We went to high school together, remember?” She said sarcastically. “I was there when you started popping your daddy’s pills.”

“And I,” Jefferson would have crossed his arms, but he couldn’t. “was hopelessly in love with you, Madame Mayor.”

“Oh, I knew that much.” Regina laughed. “I loved you, too, for a little while.”

“I guess some things are true no matter what world you’re born into.” 

“I guess so.” Regina agreed, and they fell into a brief and awkward silence. “You can’t die, Jefferson. I need you here. I need you here, so that you can suffer. Don’t you _dare_ do this again.” 

“Can you really blame me?” Despite himself, Jefferson could feel tears welling up behind his eyelids. “I can’t do this anymore, Regina. I can’t. I’ve been hurting too much for too long.”

“How do you think I feel? How do you think I’ve always felt—in part, thanks to you?” Regina’s tone of voice dropped. She’d clearly remembered that she didn’t love him anymore. 

“It’s not the same, Regina—you took back control of your life. I will never, never have that so long as I live in this fucked up world of yours.” He drew a deep breath. “You can’t make me live like this anymore.” Opening his eyes, he turned his head to meet her gaze. “There’s no one here to save me, least of all you. _You_ want to _destroy_ me.” 

“That’s right.” Regina’s lips were drawn into a thin line. “I’m not going to save you, but I’m also not going to let you die.” She stood, and gave his shoulder a quick pat. “Get some rest.” 

Jefferson heard the door open and shut, closed his eyes, and willed his memories back to the Enchanted Forest.


	4. Chapter 4

_The Enchanted Forest; Post “The Doctor”_

 

This wasn’t the first time that he’d paid the queen a visit since the ball. He’d been by a handful of times to bring her trinkets from distant lands and tell her what it was like to move between the realms.

She never said it out loud, but he knew that she hung off of every word of his adventures. He was very good at telling stories. If he’d been a slightly less wise man, he would have taken her into his hat a time or two.

Even if that had been the case, the queen’s free-time was mostly allocated to her lessons with the imp. Jefferson’s time with her was squeezed into a few hours, late in the night, every once in awhile. On the rarest of occasions, they saw one another at the Dark One’s castle, or met in the palace grounds.

Those were Jefferson’s favorite days, because he was able to see her in the light of day.

At first, it had mostly been for fun. He loved attention, and seeing the young queen’s eyes light up as he explained Narnia and Oz to her fed his ego. Eventually, unfortunately, he’d started to care. Over time (he’d been visiting her for just over a year) he’d noticed that even as her magic grew, the queen became more and more sad.

They didn’t talk about it much. Whenever Jefferson tried to coax her problems out into the open, the queen cut him off and sent him away. 

Every time that he visited it was the same. He’d land on his feet and catch his hat, his back to the queen’s chambers—just in case. Although he wouldn’t have complained, he doubted the queen would take kindly to being disturbed while indecent. 

They scheduled his visits, and that was fine. He didn’t mind being courteous. The last thing he wanted was for the fairest woman in the land to turn him away for good. 

“Your majesty?” He called out, putting his hat back on. 

“Jefferson.” 

Mm. That didn’t sound quite right. Frowning slightly, he turned around and saw the queen sitting at her vanity, looking tired and almost—scared? 

“Is this a bad time?” He asked, taking a few steps across the room and settling into a plush armchair, taking in the queen’s appearance. She was in her nightgown, her hair braided over her shoulder and her face devoid of makeup, a small crystal vial in her hand. Perfume, maybe? 

It was the first time he’d seen her in such a state of undress. It was hardly appropriate. She must have actually forgotten that he was coming. 

That had never happened before. 

“I…No. No of course not. What have you brought for me?” She asked, and with a small wave of her hand her nightgown was covered with a robe. Oh, magic. It was such a fickle friend to Jefferson. He’d preferred her without the robe. 

“Nothing too impressive, I’m afraid.” Jefferson took his hat back off and reached into it, pulling out a paper lantern. “I was recently to a land where they send these to the air to try and bring a lost princess home—a silly tradition, but a beautiful one. Would you like me to tell you about it?” 

Regina gave a small nod, and his worry increased. Her attention wasn’t on him at all, but instead on the bottle in her hand. She was always interested in his stories. What was wrong? More importantly, how could he get her to tell him without overstepping his boundaries?

“The princess herself was a miracle.” He explained. “Her mother—the queen, obviously—was very sick during her pregnancy. She was only saved by eating a magical golden flower—and when the child was born, she had a full head of lush, golden hair. Just like the flower! Can you believe that?” 

“Mm.” Regina still wasn’t paying attention. 

“Well, in any case—shortly after her birth, the princess was stolen. Now, they send _hundreds_ of these lanterns into the air on her birthday to try and bring her home. I doubt that anything will ever come of it, but it’s beautiful. The castle is on the sea, and the lanterns are all reflected in the water, and—“ 

“Why am I doing this?” 

“I…excuse me?” Jefferson asked, his brow furrowed. “Why are you doing what?”

“Any of it. Learning magic, being queen—what’s it doing? Nothing’s going to change.”

Jefferson didn’t reply right away. Instead, he took a few moments to think about what was happening, and to study Regina more closely. To his horror, he realized that it looked like she’d been crying—and like she might start crying again. 

What had happened? That was the first question he wanted to pose, but he held it back when he realized that there was something much more important that he had to ask her. 

“Regina,” He said softly. “What’s in the bottle?”

 

xxx

 

He asked what was in the bottle, and she broke down completely. Before she could tell him to leave her alone, to leave forever, there were arms wrapping around her and her face was pressed against Jefferson’s chest. 

“I can’t. _I can’t_.” She sobbed, holding onto him with everything that she had. This was the last thing that she’d wanted. No one was supposed to see her when she was like this. _No one_. 

It was her own fault for forgetting when the portal jumper was supposed to visit, but she’d had to spend the whole day parading around the palace and being completely ignored while visiting nobleman doted on Snow White and shook Leopold’s hand. 

Normally she wouldn’t mind. She didn’t _want_ anyone in the palace to speak to her.

Other times—very rarely—every time that someone ignored her, that it became clear that this was the last thing that she could have possibly wanted in her youth, it felt like a knife in her gut. This wasn’t what she’d wanted. She’d wanted happiness—she’d wanted the stableboy. 

Every once in awhile, it was too much for her to bear. It was something that no one was meant to witness, especially not the reckless young man whose arms she was in. 

“Regina, what’s in the bottle?” Jefferson asked again, and Regina only cried harder into his chest as he slowly and gently pried it from her hand, one arm still wrapped around the queen. 

When she didn’t answer, he fell silent. As—slowly—she stopped crying, he let his chin rest on the top of her head, his own chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed in and out. There wasn’t anything to say. It was obvious in the way that he was speaking to her that he knew.

He knew what was in the bottle—what she’d been contemplating.

“Would you?” He asked once she’d stopped crying, but hadn’t pulled away. Letting him see her in such a moment of weakness was bad enough in itself. Letting him hold her made it worse. There was no farther that she could sink in that particular moment, and so she gave up.

“No. But sometimes I think about it.” She whispered.

“Why?” He asked, rubbing gentle circles on her back and making no move to let go. She should have pulled away, but it had been a long time since she’d been embraced so warmly, and couldn’t bring herself to end it. Not yet.

“…because I hate being queen. I never wanted this.” She grit her teeth. “I want control over my life.”

“Then run away.” He suggested, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “Or magic away the castle.”

“I can’t. I _won’t_.”

“So what were you doing with the bottle?”

“I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Good.” He sighed quietly, and she frowned.

“Not that it matters to you.” Forcing herself to regain composure, she pushed him away and took a deep breath, standing up. “Don’t think that this makes me weak—I’m not. I’m strong. I can take care of myself.” She wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to Jefferson, but she kept going. “I don’t need anyone to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you.” He raised up his hands in submission, an eyebrow cocked. “…but I’m not going to let you die, either.” 

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going anywhere.” Chin up, she sat back down at the vanity and gestured for her companion to also take a seat. “Keep talking.”

“About?” He asked, sitting back down in the armchair he’d been in before.

“The lanterns. And the lost princess.” Regina explained, reaching out and picking up the lantern, starting to examine it. Jefferson had apparently dropped it in his rush to comfort her. It was hard to keep color from flooding her cheeks when she thought that he might _care_ about her. 

No one was supposed to see her cry, but at least Jefferson had the decency not to mention it. 

“Did they find her?” She asked, making eye contact with the portal hopper. 

“I…no.” Jefferson shrugged and leaned back in the armchair, quickly going from a concerned acquaintance (not friend—she wasn’t foolish enough to have those) to the charming and nonchalant traveller she knew. “Unless she’s been miraculously returned to her parents since this morning when I left. I just thought you’d enjoy hearing about the lantern festival.” 

“I…it sounds beautiful.” She admitted, thinking back on what Jefferson had said earlier. “I wish that I could see it.” 

“Well, you are the queen. I know that you’re busy, but maybe someday I could take you there.” He paused. “Or…anywhere.” 

Regina hesitated, and then smiled and nodded. 

“I’d like that.” She said softly, and when their gazes met, something had changed. 

Another month went by, another three or four visits, until they kissed. It was a full moon. He’d been telling a story about a troupe of dwarves fighting a dragon, and demonstrating a dance from their land to her, when he’d tripped over his own feet and almost fallen. 

She’d criticized his poor coordination, they’d both fallen into laughter without reason, and before she knew what she was doing, Regina had pulled him down and their lips were crashing together. 

When she pulled back, hands on his face, she repeated what she’d said weeks before. 

“I don’t need you to save me.”

“I’m not going to save you.” He promised. “But I just might kiss you again.”

She smiled, and he leaned back in.


	5. Chapter 5

_Storybrooke, Maine; Pre-Season 1_

As she, in high-heels of course, wheeled her ex-lover out of the hospital towards her car, her head was held high. She told herself that she was only doing this to keep him alive.

Jefferson for his part, arms crossed looking sullen, was staring at his feet.

“I don’t need the chair.” He growled.

“Hospital policy.” Regina smirked and opened the passenger seat to her car. “Get in, and I’ll drive you home.”

A hospital attendant snatched the chair back, and a few quick moments later they were both in the car, pulling away from the hospital. They’d kept Jefferson there for a week, counseled the hell out of him, prescribed him half a dozen new pills, and sent him on his merry way.

He didn’t have an emergency contact, so Regina had stepped in.

“How do you know that I won’t just try and off myself again?” He asked, a scowl on his face.  Ever since he’d woken up properly in the hospital, Jefferson had remained irritable. Regina supposed that she couldn’t blame him.

He’d almost gotten his freedom.

“If you try and kill yourself, I’m going to have Paige’s,” Jefferson winced at his daughter’s new name. “parents arrested and put her into the system.”

“You wouldn’t.” Jefferson growled.

“I’m the Evil Queen, dear.” Regina pointed out, throwing a quick glance at Jefferson. He looked positively murderous, despite the week’s worth of stubble on his face and his messy, unstyled hair. “You of all people should know better than to put anything past me.”

“Fine.” He muttered. 

“…but your silly little stunt did make me realize something.” Regina continued. “I thought that leaving you in that house with your memories would be the cruelest punishment for you, but I was wrong. 

“ _You_ were wrong? We should make it a national holiday. Call the papers.” Jefferson grumbled, looking out the window and scowling heavily.

“I was wrong.” Regina repeated. “I forgot about one very important benefit of you retaining your memories.” 

“And what is that, _your majesty_?” He spat. 

“You, unlike every other person in this town, remember how much you hate me. It’s something that I should have exploited a long time ago.” 

“You’re exploiting it _now_.” 

“And I will continue to exploit it every Sunday morning at eleven at my house. Am I clear?”

“If you wanted to ask me out, you should have bought flowers.” 

“You know that’s not what this is about.” 

“So you want me to come over every Sunday? You know what happens when I see you, right? Do you _want_ the neighbors to hear the way that we talk to each other? Want them to know the extent of your temper?” 

“I know what I’m doing, Jefferson. As always.” 

The rest of the ride passed in silence, but it wasn’t very long. Regina had almost forgotten how grand Jefferson’s home was. When she’d been there a week before, she hadn’t had time to notice. 

Her heart had been racing and her hair had been soaking wet as she burst into his house screaming his name. She was glad that he’d been (mostly) passed out. It wasn’t something that she wanted him to remember. It had almost looked like she cared. 

But she didn’t. Not about him. 

Jefferson’s eyes had barely been open when she started shaking him. He was playing something classical. It didn’t matter what. Her hands had started shaking as she’d dragged him to the bathroom, shoving two fingers down his throat. He’d convulsed and vomited, and the next twenty minutes of her life had consisted of pulling him to her car and breaking the speed limit in order to get him to the ER in time. 

For the first time in a long time, she’d been terrified. It hadn’t been because she cared about Jefferson, because she didn’t. It had just been because she couldn’t let any part of her curse fall apart. 

She was in control. 

As Jefferson let them both into his house (Regina had come back to lock it once Jefferson was stable) it occurred to her that he might remember what had happened. It was probably best not to bring it up. Then they could forget about it. 

For a few awkward seconds, they both stood in front of the door.

“I’ll see you on Sunday. Eleven o’clock.” She eventually said, tone brisk. “Don’t be late.”

 

xxx

 

His first Sunday brunch at Mayor Mills’ house was one of the most awkward experiences of his life. He still wasn’t completely over his stay in the hospital, and Regina was polite and well-mannered to the point of being cold. 

That was how most of their encounters began—quiet, controlled—that was fine. 

What wasn’t fine was that by the end of brunch, he’d expected at least five broken plates as they screamed at one another loudly enough for the whole town to hear. 

Instead, it was a quiet, calm meal with delicious homemade food and a gorgeous woman across from him. No matter how much he hated Regina, she would never stop being beautiful. 

That was one of the problems with having fallen in love with her, even if it had been a long time ago. He could never fall out of love with the way that things had been. The way that he’d been able to make her laugh like no one else could. 

The way that he couldn’t stop smiling when she’d tuck her head under his chin and put her hands in his pockets. 

If only the curse had done the same to him as it had to everyone else, _those_ memories wouldn’t be a problem. He’d be a drug-addicted millionaire ex-law-student with a hopeless, unrequited crush on a girl he’d known in high school.

He’d still be in love with Regina Mills, but at least The Evil Queen would be at rest. 

Oh, for the simple life. 

Instead, he was a very tired hatter with the memories of a drug-addicted millionaire, a hatter, a father, and a reckless young portal jumper. All of the people he’d been. All of the identities he’d ever assumed. 

He’d done a lot in his life. Being the Dark One’s errand boy hadn’t exactly been _effortless_. Fatherhood? Very difficult, especially after what had happened to Grace’s mother. Being Cora’s hatter, her madman, her slave, hadn’t been easy, either. 

Then the curse. 

Now _this_. Now he had to endure picture-perfect brunches with Madame Mayor every Sunday at eleven, and promise that he hadn’t tried to kill himself. He had to promise that to Dr. Hopper, too. He saw the counselor every other week. It was humiliating, and the appointments were always too long. 

He missed his solitude. 

At least the brunches and the counseling sessions gave him some sort of routine. It made measuring his months in Storybrooke easier. Then the months turned into years.

One year of brunches with the Evil Queen 

Two years of brunches with the Evil Queen. 

Instead of quietly going crazy by himself, he was passing Regina maple syrup. 

“Thank you.” She inclined her head slightly and drizzled the syrup over her pancakes before starting to cut them into small, neat pieces. “And how has your week been, Jefferson?” 

“How do you think?” Jefferson rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “…the same as every other week. Just like everything in this damn town of yours.” 

Silence. He grit his teeth. 

“And how was your week, Regina?” 

“Wonderful. Thank you for asking. A group of teenagers vandalized the Toll Bridge sign, but it should be fixed soon.” Regina smiled at him across the island in the middle of her kitchen at him. 

“Great.” Jefferson rolled his eyes, and went back to eating his fucking apple pancakes. Always fucking apple. It wasn’t even funny. The worst part was that they were his favorite. “As per usual, you have perfect and complete control over your citizens. Fantastic. Good for you.” 

The fucking orange juice was fresh-squeezed. Probably organic, too. 

When he looked up from his food again, Regina was looking at him with an expression that made him extremely uncomfortable, mostly because he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t apathy. Or distaste. Or pride. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked immediately. What if she wanted a favor? He hoped not. He was done doing favors. 

“I want to talk to you about something.” She said carefully, and Jefferson was suddenly very worried. This, whatever it was, was why she’d put extra syrup on his pancakes. 

“Before I say anything else, I need you to know something, and know that I mean it from the bottom of my heart.” 

“Go on, then.” Jefferson sighed, and drained his orange juice. He was probably going to lose his appetite soon, so he figured that he might as well eat as quickly as possible. 

“I hate the man I sent to Wonderland. I _hate_ him.” Regina’s grip on her butter knife tightened, and Jefferson feared for his dick. Not his life—she wouldn’t kill him. His dick, though, he did worry for whenever she was around. “And there are things that I can never forgive. What happened with Daniel,” Her voice lowered at the name of her lover’s name. “and everything after. However, after a lot of thinking, I have come to a conclusion.” 

“And what is that?” Jefferson asked, brow furrowed. He had no idea what the woman across from him was thinking of. 

“I hate that man, Jefferson.” She paused. “…but you’re not him anymore, are you?” 

Jefferson took a few moments to sort himself out, because Regina being _right_ about anything that had to do with him was _horrible_. 

“No. I’m not.” He whispered, because it was true. “You’ve hurt me enough to change me into an entirely new person, so thank you for that.” There was rage bubbling up under his skin, but he held it down. “And it took you this long to notice.”

“I had other things to do.” Regina took his plate, and set it down in the sink. “Do you know what this means, Jefferson?” 

“No.” He just wanted to leave, because _how did Regina not realize how much she had changed him?_ How could she not know what she’d been doing? 

“It means that we’re even. You don’t have to come here next week. I’m done with you.” 

He threw the plate, and it shattered against the cabinet next to her head. 

“I thought you’d be happy.” She looked at him over his shoulder. 

“You.” He took a step forward. “Are.” Another. “Unbelievable.” 

For a few moments neither of them moved. 

“Insufferable.” He added. 

“Infuriating.” Step. 

“And _I’m_ not done with _you_.” Step. 

They sized one another up for another few seconds, and then she kissed him.


	6. Chapter 6

“If nothing else, we were always good at this.” Jefferson sighed, shifting so that his arm was around Regina and she was tucked comfortably against his side.

“Mm.” Regina agreed, splaying a hand over his bare chest and letting out a little sigh as he moved his thumb over her shoulder. “I meant what I said, you know.” 

“Of course you did. You mean everything that you say.” Jefferson was only half-paying attention, because it was the first sex that he’d had since Wonderland, and it had been pretty damn good. 

A little weird, because neither of them were twenty-two anymore and they’d been through so much that they were very different people, but some things hadn’t changed. The way that he kissed her neck. The way that it felt when her nails dug into his back. The way that they tangled up in one another in the first few moments after they’d finished. 

“We’ve put each other through enough hell.” Regina was speaking quietly, as if someone else could hear. Jefferson didn’t comment. It was rare for the queen (she was the queen, here in secret in her bedroom where the citizens of Storybrooke couldn’t see her) to show any vulnerability. “I’ve destroyed your happiness.” 

“You have.” Jefferson closed his eyes, and briefly realized that he couldn’t remember the color of Grace’s mother’s eyes anymore. _Those_ memories were too painful to ever revisit. He’d never been able to prove that Regina had caused her death, but he had his suspicions. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” She placed a careful kiss to his jawline. “I almost wish you weren’t the only one living with the truth. You seem to be suffering the most out of anyone here.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” Jefferson had been watching Regina since they’d arrived in Storybrooke. At first the queen-turned-mayor had seemed happy with the results of the curse, but over time that had changed. 

He _knew_ Regina unlike anyone else in Storybrooke ever had—except maybe the imp. 

He knew that she’d made a mistake. 

Had she really thought that this form of revenge would satisfy her? From what he could see, everyone in the town wasn’t exactly happy and in-true-love, but they weren’t _suffering_. If anything, _remembering_ was the true hell in the curse.

Because of that, he was more than convinced that he wasn’t the only one who was miserable. Regina had to be just as unhappy as he was, even if she wasn’t showing it. How _could_ she show it? This was supposed to be exactly what she wanted. 

“What do you mean?” Regina asked, her voice flat-lining as she propped herself up on an elbow to look down at Jefferson. “I don’t see anyone else popping enough pills to down a Cheshire cat.” 

“Never mind.” Jefferson pushed Regina back down and started kissing her neck, a hand creeping to her thigh. They’d been lounging in bed for the better part of an hour, but neither of them had bothered to redress. Just as well. It would be better to enjoy this as much as he could before it ended.“ Doesn’t matter.” 

For a moment it seemed like the queen was going to object, but once his mouth continued south she quieted down—for a few minutes at least, until his tongue made her speak up again. 

“Oh—oh _Jefferson—“_  

Having Jefferson’s face between her legs sated the queen more than his cock had—and that was fine. There was something comfortable about the way that she playfully slapped his ass when he left to go make the both of them coffee. For a moment every now and then, it felt like they didn’t hate one another. 

Regina could say that they were even, and that was fine—but Jefferson didn’t believe it. 

When he came back to tell her that the coffee was brewing, the shower was running. Cracking his neck (he was out of practice, he thought as he rubbed his jaw) he walked into the bathroom and called out her name. 

She reached out from behind the shower curtain. He grinned, and let her pull him in.

 

xxx

 

It would have been wiser to never see Jefferson again after sleeping with him. Regina wasn’t lonely—she just needed to make sure that the hatter stayed miserable. As long as he stayed wretched, they stayed even. 

On top of that, as sweet as Graham was, he was a disappointment where it counted. He wanted to treasure her—but Regina hadn’t needed to be treasured in a long, long time. Jefferson understood that, and so did his mouth. 

He understood it in her bed, her living room, _and_ her shower. 

It had been after the shower, as she dried her hair and he buttoned his shirt, that she’d said there was no reason they couldn’t continue to have brunch. He’d been quick to agree, and as they parted ways his mouth had hovered next to hers for a hot second before he settled for kissing her cheek and walking quickly back to his car. 

The following Sunday, she gave him a spectacular blowjob in the spare bedroom, and he took care of her soon after. 

That she’d started sleeping with Jefferson didn’t really surprise her. It was something that they were good at—that they’d always been good at—and really, it shouldn’t have taken this long for the hatter to crawl back into her bed. The thing that really surprised her was that everything they did wasn’t about how much they’d hurt one another.

Some of it was, of course. Sometimes she’d choke back rage, digging her fingernails into his ribs as she rode him hard and fast and thought about choking him until it felt like he was going to lose his head for a second time. 

On other occasions, Jefferson would take his time pressing kisses down her body from her lips to her calves, ravishing every part of her and making sure that nothing went untouched or unworshipped. 

Either of them could have stopped it at any point, but there was something about the way that Jefferson stared at her with knitted brows when she woke up the next morning that made her remember the man he’d been (the man she’d _destroyed_ ) and that at least _some_ good was coming out of the curse. 

There was also something about the way that he wrapped his arms around her waist while she was making him pancakes and started to kiss the back of her neck that made her smile and think of better times. 

Their mutual hatred for each other made everything easier. It didn’t matter how gently Jefferson woke her up in the morning, or how softly Regina whispered “goodnight” when they went to bed. 

They’d ruined one another, and that made the sex easy. 

It took so little, in fact, to fall into Jefferson’s arms that Regina stopped paying attention to other things. 

It took her a month to realize that she’d missed her period. 

As she let out a sigh of relief and looked at the negative pregnancy test, Jefferson called out to make sure that she was alright and Regina Mills held back tears that she didn’t understand.

It wasn’t until later, when Jefferson was dozing next to her, that she made a very important decision. 

She wanted a baby.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time around starts here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about making this fic longer, but I don't think I'd ever finish it if I stuck to my original plan. At any rate, it just felt right to finish it like this. Thank you for all of your support!! : )

Having a baby with Jefferson was out of the question. He’d already proved himself to be a horrible father. His intentions may have been good, but he should have known better than to take Regina to Wonderland and abandon his daughter.

Besides, she didn’t love him—and she didn’t want to share her child with anyone. 

That was what led her to Henry, her precious little boy. At first, she would admit, it had been difficult to adjust to motherhood, and giving him away would have been the biggest mistake of her life. Instead, she’d kept him—and realized that the only way for them to both be happy would be to forget the Evil Queen altogether. 

As she brewed the potion with what little remained of her magic, she told Henry a story. 

“Once Upon a time there was a queen, and she cast a glorious curse that gave her everything she wanted. Or so she thought. She despaired when she learned that revenge was not enough. She was lonely. And so she searched the land for a little boy to be her prince. And then, she found him! And though they lived happily, it was not ever after.” 

Almost done, now. Henry had started to fuss but she’d managed to calm him down. Even if he did cry, he was a good baby. He’d be a great son—she just hoped that she could be a good mother. 

“ There was still an evil out there lurking and then queen was worried for her prince's safety. While she knew she could vanquish any threat to the boy, she also knew she couldn't raise him worrying. No, she needed to put her troubles aside and put her child first. And so, the queen procured and ancient potion of forgetting.” 

Henry started to fuss again, and she stopped to tickle his feet. The potion was done now, all that needed to be done was to drink it. 

“Oh! It's alright. If the queen drinks the potion, she won't forget her child, she'll only forget her worries, her troubles, her fears. And with those gone, she, and her prince, can indeed, finally live happily ever after.” 

She smiled and brought the potion to her lips. 

“That’s a nice story.” 

In an instant, her lips were drawn into a thin frown and she was turning to the doorway, where Jefferson stood with his arms crossed. 

“What are you doing here?” She hissed, thinking that perhaps she shouldn’t have broken off their—whatever it was—through a letter. How had he even found her? Had he followed her?

“I should be asking you that.” Jefferson took a few steps forward, and Regina moved in front of Henry. “I thought you didn’t have magic.” 

“I don’t.” She growled, intent on protecting her son, and their future. 

“I heard you. You’re going to erase your memory.” Jefferson’s eyes narrowed. 

“You can’t stop me.” Regina sneered, tightening her grip on the tiny bottle in her hand, trying not to show how nervous she was. She should have thought of this—even if she’d followed her plan, Jefferson would _know_ and wonder why she didn’t know the Mad Hatter anymore. 

“I won’t. Not if you listen to me.” He looked more dangerous than she’d seen him since The Enchanted Forest, and it had her on edge. 

“What do you want?” She drawled. They were both looking as cocky and confident as she could. Even though they’d known each other intimately, he was still a hard man to read. She was worried—she knew what he was capable of. 

“Share it with me.”

“There’s only enough for one.” 

“How do you know?” He asked, madness trembling behind his eyes. Jefferson wasn’t even trying to hide how close he was to the edge, and that more than anything was frightening. 

“You don’t deserve to forget.” 

“Neither do you.” He drew out the words, and she felt an unwelcome and unexpected pain in her chest. Maybe it would have been better to leave her heart behind in Fairytaleland. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

“If you let me forget, I’ll leave you alone. I won’t know you. Not really. You’ll just be the pretty girl in high school I never got to third base with.” 

“You’ll just be a boy I used to know.” She loosened her grip on the bottle slightly. “If I don’t give it to you, you won’t leave Henry alone will you?” 

“No. I’ll destroy you both.” 

They both knew that he meant it. 

“Together, then?” There wasn’t deception left in her, not when she truly wanted to change for her son. Perhaps one good deed while she was still the Evil Queen would help to start her relationship with Henry off right.

“Together.” He agreed.

 

xxx

 

Jefferson Maddon stared at Regina Mills and they both wondered what he was doing in her family vault. A baby started crying, and he rushed to pick up the infant. 

“Be careful!” Regina snapped, obviously wary of letting a drug addict hold her son. 

The anger in her face vanished when the baby stopped crying immediately. 

“How did you do that?” Regina marveled, placing her hands on Jefferson and Henry, half-supporting her son even though she didn’t need to.

“I…I’ve always been good with children.” He said as if only just remembering. “I just haven’t been around one in awhile. Not since my parents passed away and the rest of my family left Storybrooke.” 

“Well, at any rate I’ll take him back now.” She placed Henry in his car-seat and picked it up, pausing and looking at the man she’d last really talked to before they left for college. “…I’m sorry, but I can’t quite remember why I’ve brought you here.” 

“Neither can I.” Jefferson admitted, looking uncomfortable as he glanced at her father’s tomb. “I…I wanted to ask you something, I think.” 

“Well? What was it?” She asked, resting the car-seat on her hip, eager to get out of the musty crypt. The air couldn’t be good for infants. 

“I can’t member—how odd.” He managed a smile, and stepped back to let her through and up the steps. “But,” As she passed him to go up the stairs, Jefferson took a deep breath. “We could talk about it over coffee if you’d like. I could calm Henry down again if he gets upset.” 

“I suppose that’s acceptable.” She agreed to the invitation without a thought.

 

xxx

 

Ten months and four days later, it’s been three months and eight days since Jefferson has abused his prescriptions. He’s continued to calm Henry down, and has found himself having dinner with Regina and her son at least three times a week for several months.

Henry, much bigger than when Regina first brought him home from Boston, has been put to bed. Jefferson is finishing up the dinner dishes when the mayor comes up behind him. 

“You don’t have to do those.” She laughs, and he finds himself smiling. 

“I want to.” He insists, turning to face her with his hands still covered in soapy dishwater. “It’s the least I can do.”

He’s not sure why, but they’re both laughing a little. Regina’s face is flushed. At first he thinks it’s the wine, then he realizes how close they are.

Mayor Mills and Mr. Maddon kiss for the first time, and the clock-tower starts to move for the first time in seventeen years.

 

xxx

 

Henry is ten years old, and has decided that his mother is the Evil Queen. There’s no other explanation for the way that she is, and the book that Mary Margaret gave him makes more sense than anything Regina has ever said. 

He’s found his birthmother, and she _has_ to be the savior. She’ll be able to break the curse. Henry’s not an idiot—his mother didn’t raise him that way, if nothing else. He knows that it’s far-fetched, but he _believes_ and that’s enough. 

As he shoulders his backpack and prepares to leave the house, he hopes that his mother isn’t home. 

There’s something he’s forgotten, but it doesn’t cross his mind what that is until a hand on his shoulder stops him from leaving the house. 

“And just where are you going?” Jefferson asks, and Henry freezes. 

“Nowhere.” 

“Nowhere with a change of clothes and your toothbrush?”

Henry grits his teeth. He doesn’t understand how Jefferson can love his mother—according to the book, he’s the Mad Hatter. According to the book, he has more reasons than most to want his mother dead. 

“Nowhere.” He repeats. 

“Henry.” Jefferson says firmly, and the child gives up. 

“She’s evil!” He turns to face the older man, his eyes wide. “Why can’t you see it!” 

“Do you think there’s ever been a boy your age who didn’t hate his mother for at least a little while?” Jefferson sits down on one of the steps that leads up to Henry’s room, and gestures for the freckled boy to join him. 

“It’s not like that!” Henry insists. “She’s not my _real_ mom, anyway! I don’t want her, I want _Emma_!” 

Jefferson’s brow furrows and he looks genuinely hurt. Henry doesn’t realize why at first, and then horror creeps onto his face. 

“I didn’t mean—“ 

“If Regina’s not your mother, does that mean I’m not your father?” He asks. 

Henry, for his part, can’t remember a time when Jefferson and his mother weren’t together. They’ve only been married for a few years. Both of them insisted on waiting until Henry could give his permission. That didn’t change that _Papa_ had been his second word, right after Mom, and he’d said it as Jefferson put him down to bed. 

In fact, his mother’s love for Jefferson is one of the only things that’s made him hesitate in his quest to find Emma Swan, his birth mother. 

“Of course you’re my dad!” Henry blurts out. “But—“ 

“But if you’re really having that many problems with your mother, let me talk to her.” Jefferson puts an arm around his son, and Henry—frustrated tears in his eyes—hides his face against his stepfather’s chest. “…but don’t run away from your family, Henry. For my sake.” 

Henry Maddon-Mills mutters a promise into Jefferson’s coat, and he never goes to Boston.

 


End file.
